Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Rwanda and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Wake to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Byron Stingily,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Smoke,
Crash Course in Science,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mission of Burma,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Normal,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Reed,
Glambeats Corp.,
Y Pants,
Black Bananas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Leonard Cohen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Faraquet,
Deadbeat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glenn Branca,
Harry Pussy,
The Saints,
Chris Corsano,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rekid,
Pylon,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Byrd,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Iggy Pop,
Babytalk,
Unrelated Segments,
Archie Shepp,
the Slits,
Interpol,
The Smiths,
The Dead C,
Guru Guru,
Kayak,
The Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Radio Birdman,
Aloha Tigers,
Fear,
Barrington Levy,
Peter & Gordon,
Urselle,
Carl Craig,
Steve Hackett,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Suicide,
The Five Americans,
Ronan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Suburban Knight,
Gang of Four,
Moby Grape,
Stockholm Monsters,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.